


Your smiles, in the middle of winter

by AbelsGrave



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Alternate Universe - After College/University, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, M/M, almost unexplicable angst, established Daejae, truly i don't know what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 19:51:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12660282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbelsGrave/pseuds/AbelsGrave
Summary: Winters were hard on Yongguk’s mind. The aching cold and the never-ending nights. Youngjae loved plaids and lazying on the couch, and he would lure him in when he sometimes came late from work. Yongguk would find himself under a soft blanket, his hands in Youngjae’s warm hands, and they would watch television until they fell asleep. Sometimes Daehyun would be here too and they would talk, a lot, but it was nice: he would forget about the disappearing of the sun and the coldness; things would be alright.





	Your smiles, in the middle of winter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnEndlessFire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnEndlessFire/gifts), [stigmafermata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stigmafermata/gifts).



> Sometimes we write things without a real purpose, right? 
> 
> I hope you like it. Thank you for taking time to read this. ♥
> 
> PS: English isn't my first language

Spring was still a long time away from him, he sadly realized while looking at the grey mocking sky through the window. He was going to know loneliness a bit more, this winter. He glanced at his phone to check the time and called out for his friend who was still in the bathroom.

“Youngjae, are you ready now?”

“Yes, yes I am,” replied Youngjae, emerging from the bathroom, adjusting his turtleneck while looking at himself in the mirror of their living room.

“Okay, I’ll wait for you in the car then.” Yongguk told him, his car keys in his hands.

“Wait, hyung, your,” started Youngjae with a tone that sounded like a scold but then Yongguk heard a soft exclamation and he turned around.

It happened fast, but Yongguk was not far away from him and managed to catch the kid in time before he landed face first on the floor. Youngjae looked at him with wide eyes then glared at his own bag that he tripped on, before speaking. “Your scarf. You were going to forget your scarf. And it’s fucking cold. I’m not babying you if you get ill.”

That made Yongguk laugh. “It’s hard to baby someone when you’re dead, kid.”

“Ah, do you think you’ll get rid of me after I die,” scoffed Youngjae before straightening himself. “Anyway, we better get going if we want to have a moment to ourselves before joining Daehyun at the coffee shop. Or he’s going to be annoying.”

“We’re always late so, I think he’s allowed to.”

“But rest assured my friend, that he’ll ask me, nicely, to blow him and everything will be forgiven,” assured Youngjae while wrapping the scarf around Yongguk’s neck.

Yongguk rolled his eyes. The couple was, to most, little fights and sung replies, raised voices and too loud laughters. Amidst the explosion, Yongguk knew them. He knew their shy kisses and soft murmurs, the warm glances – all of that sounded like small prayers to an unknown entity. Keep him away from the cold and let his tongue taste honey only, in the midst of the hardest of winters. Small prayers, yes. Yongguk repeated the words in his head and withdrew his phone from his pocket to note them.

“Hyung, no, you can’t get inspiration right now. Remember, mad Daehyun,” warned Youngjae.

Yongguk simply nodded before putting his phone back in his pocket.

“What would I do without you, Yoo Youngjae.”

He moved his neck around to adjust to the warm new weight. Youngjae shrugged. “Catch colds and live with a mad Daehyun on your back.”

Considering the idea, Yongguk winced. “At least, I’m glad that he asks you nicely for blowjobs.”

At that, Youngjae’s loud laugh rose and pushed them out of the apartment. It followed them to the car and Yongguk thought that it was bright enough to mock the sky in return.

 

Or maybe it was wishful thinking, because when they arrived at the park, the sky decided to send them an icy rain. Yongguk got out of the driver seat first to go retrieve their last umbrella from the trunk. Youngjae quickly joined him, shivering already.

“We have a little hour for us.” Youngjae stated, before linking arms with him. “At least, the park will be empty, right?”

On these words, they went for their annual walk in the park. Yongguk was no longer a college student – he had graduated two years ago, and found a position in a relatively big label that scooted him at an event his university held. Still, he was pretty much a part of his friends’ student life.  
During finals, Youngjae would manifest himself through leftovers and post-it notes left on the toilet seat or the coffee machine to remind Yongguk not to forget to eat or to take out the trash. He would catch a glimpse of the exhausted kid from time to time, when he would wake up in the middle of the night to drink water. Sometimes, he would tuck a knocked-out third year into his bed, despite the powerless protests that escaped that tired mouth. But with Yongguk working late and Youngjae forgetting that life existed, they rarely saw each other. Their post finals week was more like a reunion to them – and frankly, they found themselves missing each other.

Luckily, the park was almost empty, except for a few brave souls. It was humid, and the cold was piercing through his flesh to his bones. In the hard days of winter, he often found himself missing autumn; this last powerful show, an offering to their eyes. The explosive or muted reds and yellows, the beauty of the golden hour through the leaves.

“So, how was your week?” Youngjae asked first, voice muffled by the huge scarf around his neck that ate almost his whole face.

“’was good,” said Yongguk with a smile.

“I can’t stop listening to the songs you’ve been working on for that artist,” announced Youngjae with pride. “It’s really good. I can’t believe I’m friends with the country’s best producer.”

Yongguk grinned, looking down with embarrassment. “I’m not there yet.”

“But you’re getting there, hyung, don’t underestimate your growth.”

The cold turned his knuckles almost numb and he regretted not wearing gloves. Next to him, Youngjae extended his free arm before smiling.

“It’s not raining anymore.”

The park was so silent, smelling of wet earth – Yongguk could even taste the cleanliness of the air on the back of his throat. He closed their umbrella, getting his hands wet and colder.

“How went your exams,” he asked, wiping his hands on his jeans.

“Good, I hope,” sighed Youngjae, the faintness of worry in his voice.

“You always are worried but things turn out okay, don’t they?” Yongguk offered, knowing Youngjae all too well.

A small breath from Youngjae, whose eyes left the sky to look at him and then a little nod – the worries were there but did not linger.

“Hyung, Daehyun and I…” hesitated Youngjae, eventually stopping himself.

Youngjae's big eyes searched his and Yongguk found it almost comical how cautious Youngjae was to announce something they knew would happen.

“I heard you talk Youngjae. You’re not exactly the most discreet couple,” laughed Yongguk. “When are you moving out?”

It took another small breath, and a small frown before getting an answer – Youngjae was looking straight into his eyes and Yongguk knew that the kid saw the bits of sadness in him but he did not comment on it, no, he just let it go.

“In a month, a bit before the second semester. Himchan hyung helped us found one.”

There was guilt and apprehension in Youngjae’s voice, but slight annoyance in his eyes and it made Yongguk laugh at himself. It was good, after all, that Youngjae was irritated with his friend’s irrationality and sadness over them parting.

“I’m excited for you two,” he reassured Youngjae. He meant it, truly.

“I know, hyung,” stated Youngjae, all traces of frustration gone and replaced by mischief. “I know. You’re just going to miss me.”  

He thought of the post-it notes and all the little things – the warm food in the oven sometimes, the songs Youngjae sent him to cheer him up, this walk. He thought of how they met – at a party, looking for a good fuck to lose themselves – him being so angry, so alone, too frustrated to drink. He found Youngjae, as sober as he was, as hungry too. Since Yongguk did not live far away from campus and Youngjae could not bring him back to his dorm, they had gone to his apartment. Praising each thrust with a flutter of lashes and throaty moans, Youngjae had been so pliant under him, letting Yongguk consume all sounds and breaths, his soft skin and warm full lips. If Yongguk had thought that Youngjae would let him go after this, he had been greatly mistaken. They laid there, spent and silent for a while, trying to gain their vision back, eyes still cloudy and humid from pure lust. Oddly, this meeting of the bodies before their souls did not settle right between them – sometimes, Yongguk still felt guilty about the marks he left on Youngjae’s skin that night. This feeling led them to this – a bond misinterpreted by most because once there was sex, and it would have been a lie to say that it had not meant anything at the time. It had meant, something, perhaps not what most would think it’d mean. They loved each other, truly, but not like most people made them out to be for months. They never truly found a word for that. They never truly, wanted to find one. Instinctively, Yongguk touched his scarf.

“Pfft, you wished, kid.”

 

Following his phone’s instructions, he parked a few meters away from the building that was, apparently, Daehyun’s. Youngjae was not living with him anymore. The night before Youngjae left their apartment – that was technically Yongguk’s – he had found himself wondering between his own walls, feeling dumb yet far from numb with his own emotions. It was not even like Youngjae was removing himself from his life but it almost felt like it – losing a presence here, habits that they shared, knowing that even as he enjoyed his alone time, he was not truly alone. Youngjae had seen him and probably felt it, and they slept in the same bed, exhausted after packing his belongings.  
He got out of his car, smoke forming before his lips as he breathed out in the cold air. It was way past eleven. There were two boxes left behind in Daehyun’s old apartment and Yongguk agreed to retrieve them after work to prevent any bickering – he had heard the exasperation when they realized that Daehyun had forgotten them.

“Himchan hyung will be here, I sent him a text, don’t worry,” Daehyun told him over the phone this morning.

“Remember, hyung, he’s very friendly,” Youngjae texted him too earlier.

The last part was a nice warning because Youngjae knew that Yongguk could sometimes appear too guarded and cold and slightly overwhelmed with extremely friendly people. He had never met Himchan but he heard of him, numerous times. He was a brilliant student, close to getting his master’s degree, and a former tutor of Youngjae. Himchan introduced Youngjae to his roommate, Daehyun – to some extent, Yongguk could blame him. Surely, this Himchan had to suffer as much as Yongguk did because when the kids were not with him, they were with this man. He felt a bit jealous of this Himchan – Youngjae loved him a lot, always speaking highly of the guy. When he said that he had never seen him or heard of him before, Youngjae had found it weird.

“You’re the same age. I know we’re majoring in two slightly different things, but he’s still in the music department. He’s really popular, hyung.”

“Popularity is a relative thing on campus, kid,” had retorted Yongguk. “This university is huge and you said it yourself, we’re different majors.”

When he arrived at Daehyun’s doorstep, he composed himself, hoping for little interaction. He had come straight from work and frankly, he was exhausted from recording and reviewing songs. The doorbell rang and he waited, hands in the pockets of his coat.  
After a long pause, and a voice signaling that he was coming, the door opened on a tall dark haired guy in pajamas. Yongguk was extremely tired but not blind and insensitive to looks – and this guy was gorgeous. A stone cold face, sharp and infinitely delicate. But the coldness only lasted until he smiled, so effortlessly, and Yongguk took a moment to take it in.

“Yongguk, right? I’m Himchan!”

He blinked, twice, and found himself smiling easily. “Yeah, hi. I hope I’m not bothering you, I just came from work and…yeah.”

“No, don’t worry, I was just studying,” replied Himchan. His voice was low, a bit rough. “Come in, please.”

Himchan stepped aside, letting him walk in, and he followed the man.

“Do you want to drink something? I have a few beers, or water, I mean you’re driving? Yeah, if you’re driving, no alcohol. By the way, the boxes are in the living room.”

His mind followed Himchan’s words with difficulty – the man didn’t necessarily talk fast but he talked a lot.  
His attention was on the apartment – he had never visited Daehyun’s flat. It was smaller than Youngjae and his – well, his alone, now – but decent for one person. He wondered how Himchan could afford to rent this place.

“If you’re wondering, it’s my parents’.”

The reply came as a shock, and he looked at the guy with wide eyes. Himchan laughed. “You’ve been eyeing the place and it’s a question I often get, don’t worry.”

He had never asked Daehyun about that, mainly because it never came to his mind. The kid had never mentioned anything regarding his situation, not that Yongguk particularly cared. As long as the kids had a roof over their heads when Youngjae did not sleep at home, it was enough for him.

“So, water?”

Even though he was not thirsty, Yongguk accepted. Himchan left him in the living room – it reminded him of his own flat. Empty spots here and there that testified of someone else’s presence. He took out his phone and saved a few notes, for later. At this moment, Himchan returned, glass of water in his hand.

“If you’re texting Daehyun, tell the kid that I’m keeping the mugs. He owes me this, at the very least.”

Yongguk nodded. “I’ll tell him.”

He took the glass, and not really knowing what to do, he drank hastily – eyeing the boxes that he had to get back to the couple’s place. Himchan was looking at him, not bothered by their silence. When Yongguk finished drinking, he gave the glass back and Himchan took it.

“Let me help you with the boxes,” happily said Himchan, crouching to lift one of the heavy boxes.

“Oh, I…”

“Come on, it’s late, you must be tired.”

Yongguk was left to pick up the other box. The text from Youngjae did not lie: Himchan was a very friendly human being, who did not leave silences between them one instant but not appearing bothered by Yongguk’s lack of conversation. Following Himchan down the stairs, he asked himself what happened when Daehyun, Youngjae and this man were all together and he winced.  
When they stepped outside of the building, it was Yongguk’s turn to lead them both to his car. Balancing the box against the vehicle, he patted his pockets to retrieve his car keys. Without a word, they placed Daehyun’s belongings in the trunk.

“God, it’s so cold,” complained Himchan who was in pajamas pants and a hoodie. The night was harsh and cold, and Yongguk wondered if Himchan’s pale skin was about to turn all blue. He almost felt bad for accepting his help.

“It was nice finally meeting you,” said Himchan with more importance than Yongguk felt he should put in such a simple statement. He had his arms crossed on his torso and slightly bouncing on his legs. “The kids always talk about you.”

“Oh,” he simply said, not knowing what to add to this.

“Anyway, I better get going, I should have thought about the cold,” stated Himchan, lifting a hand to wave at him, offering another striking smile. “Drive safely, I heard that the roads are very slippery.”

“I,” hesitated Yongguk. Himchan’s warm wishes and intense gaze were disorientating. “Thank you.”

He offered a shy smile, not making eye contact with Himchan this time. They parted here.

 

A month or so after the couple had finally settled in and made this apartment their own, they decided to hold a party. Yongguk still missed Youngjae’s presence at home and it was still weird to come home to a very empty space – but the guilt upon seeing his friend’s happiness was enough to make him shut his mouth and tell his thoughts off. He had no valid reason to feel like this. The couple had invited him over – truthfully, Yongguk had almost bailed out on them. He almost did, until Youngjae told him that he’d miss seeing him around with a soft voice and a pout on a videocall. At least, watching college students getting plastered and Daehyun trying to save as much furniture as it was possible was making him laugh a little bit and entertained him enough; this made up for all the times Youngjae invited wild kids over. Even that, he missed.  
A few students made advances on him and he felt extremely out of place. He was probably only two or three years older than them, but they were still kids and he was way too sober. As polite as he could be, he declined. Eventually, he decided to find his friends and find shelter around them. Sure, they were not the most quiet of kids but, he was used to their noise.  
He had been searching for them for ten good minutes, in the tiny living room, the kitchen, the bathroom, but he could see no trace of the two. Getting overwhelmed by the loud music, the laughs, the smell of alcohol and the bodies swaying, he made a dash for the rooftop. After all, Youngjae told him they chose this flat for it – Yongguk had warned him that if the lift ever stopped working, he would suffer, but the kid waved him off.

“It’s okay, Daehyun will carry me,” had laughed Youngjae, but Yongguk wasn’t sure if he was really joking.

As soon as he stepped onto the roof, he regretted not taking his jacket with him. The beginning of January was fierce. The last remnants of warmth from the party would dissipate quickly, he thought, but for once, he didn’t mind. He scanned the area: the place was empty, except for one person – they had their back to him but he felt that he knew them. He debated quickly over trying to find his friends. Then, realizing that the party was still wild and alive, he scrunched his nose. Perhaps, staying there a little while wouldn’t hurt him – his friends would text him, surely, if they didn’t see him around.  
Not wanting to disrupt the other person’s peacefulness, he went a little further away. Looking down, his heart missed a step but then settled in quickly. The streets were still full of life in this part of the town – people eating outside, walking side by side. Someone laughed in the winter wind and it rose all the way up to him. It was cold.

“Oh, you’re here.”

Yongguk turned his head so quickly he almost lost his balance. Under the faint lights, he still could see the pale, pale skin of Himchan reddening from the cruel cold. Unlike him, he was wearing his coat. He offered a smile as a salute and Himchan replied with a dazzling one, again.

“It’s getting too much down there?”

Yongguk nodded. Himchan sighed.

“I think I’m getting too old for college parties,” said Himchan with another, almost too dramatic, sigh.

Yongguk found that he had quite an intense stare. Weirdly enough, it was fitting for a guy like Himchan. The wind made his eyes watery and he found it hard to hold eye contact.

“I was trying to find the kids,” he simply said, his eyes following the smoke before his mouth.

There was a silence and then Himchan blurted out. “They’re in their bedroom.”

Yongguk frowned. “What are they…oh.”

Himchan chuckled. “Youngjae asked me to watch over but I told him to go fuck himself.”

“Clearly, he’s getting help with that.”

Himchan’s laugh broke through the busy streets noise, the echo of the party below them. It was so raw and deep and Yongguk’s eyes went straight to Himchan’s mouth.

“It’s funny that you call them kids too.”

Again, he went from the mouth to the eyes. He tried saying something but Himchan cut him off. “It’s okay, I speak a lot, you do not have to reply everytime I say something.” 

The teeth appeared, again, in something that looked like a shy lip bite. Yongguk looked at the view. Himchan’s speaking voice was nice. It was rough but steady, low but not as much as his. He liked hearing him.

“That’s okay, you’ve got a nice voice,” he said, almost a whisper in the blusterous wind. Himchan’s lips were turning blue and his were going to, surely. It was only when Himchan diverted his eyes, for the first time that he realized his words had reached ears. He felt his turn red. “Sorry, I…”

Himchan shook his head. He smiled, so big, that his eyes disappeared before taking his scarf off his neck. “I like yours too but you’re going to lose it, if you stay like this.”

He looked at the scarf then looked up, and warmth spread in him. If he judged him right, he suspected that Himchan wouldn’t let him stay here until he accepted the scarf. So, timidly, he took it and wrapped it around his neck. He caught a bit of the smell – a light but solid color, almost like wood. The fabric was soft and warm. It was huge, too, he could almost drape himself in it. He thanked him.  
Silence took them and they stood side by side, arms on the barricades that separated them from the void and the voices. No one spoke, after that. Awkwardness did not step in. Later that night, Himchan told him to keep the scarf.

“Take care on the roads. The wind is strong, tonight.”

On these well wishes, feeling warm and serene, he left and went home. Himchan’s words played in his mind and he wished he could still hear his voice. He wrote about it in notes, in case he would forget its edges and warmth.

 

Winters were hard on Yongguk’s mind. The aching cold and the never-ending nights. Youngjae loved plaids and lazying on the couch, and he would lure him in when he sometimes came late from work. Yongguk would find himself under a soft blanket, his hands in Youngjae’s warm hands, and they would watch television until they fell asleep. Sometimes Daehyun would be here too and they would talk, a lot, but it was nice: he would forget about the disappearing of the sun and the coldness; things would be alright.  
One night, coming back from work, he found himself longing for Youngjae’s warm hands and ridiculously soft blankets. He tried to find one, to realize, sadly, that Youngjae took them all. In his search, his eyes landed on the scarf that Himchan lent him a few days earlier. He hesitated, eyeing the piece of fabric laying on top of a pile of freshly washed clothes he dropped once on a chair, maybe a week ago – he never had the time to fold them. Then he shrugged and told himself that it’d do, for now. He was not wrong - he fell asleep on his bed, wrapped in this gigantic scarf.

 

On a Thursday, at one in the morning, he found himself face to face with Himchan, while buying food at the convenience store behind his studio. In this industry, sleep was a lover he separated himself from. It was okay, he found that he didn’t need that much sleep – or maybe he did, but it was best to convince himself otherwise. It was okay, if he came home at three a.m. – he had no fear of waking up Youngjae or finding a sleepy student on the couch. It was okay, because he could go straight to bed and did not have to tuck him into bed, cursing the kid under his breath.  
Himchan was working here, apparently, but he paid much more attention to his textbook than to the customers. So, when Yongguk, with a little apprehension and bashfulness, came up to him in order to pay, Himchan took his time to recognize him. It was late, after all, and Yongguk didn’t mind going unnoticed. But then, maybe something gave it away – being in a daze, slightly hungry, mind focused on music and lyrics, he didn’t grasp the reason – because Himchan almost snapped his neck and took a step back, blinking, before putting down his textbook. Yongguk’s eyes dropped to the cover, curious.

“Oh, you’re a traditional music major?”

Himchan nodded, shyly. “Yeah. I’m trying to research on how to make traditional music hip.”

Yongguk laughed and Himchan raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms on his chest. “I’m sorry, that’s amazing, but that sounded…”

“Like an old man, I know,” grinned Himchan. He did not seem offended. “But it’s a nice way of putting it. You don’t need big words and people understand you, even if it makes them laugh. I like that.”

Himchan had a point.

“What are you doing here,” asked Himchan, who did not seem to pay attention to anything but him.

Yongguk put his hands in his jeans pockets. “I’m working.”

“Oh, right,” exclaimed Himchan. “Yeah, the kids told me that you work for that label. I’m not surprised, I heard a lot about you. You got recruited after this…show university held right? I can’t remember it.”

When Yongguk was shy, he had the tendency to giggle and smile a lot. His ears would feel very hot, too. He looked at his feet. “Yes, I…yeah, basically. I was very lucky.”

“Look, I didn’t see you but I saw videos of you and heard a few of your songs.  And it definitely wasn’t luck.”

Those words rang a bell. “Youngjae told me the same thing, once. That if luck played a part, it was because my hard work paved the way…or something like that.”

Himchan had a mole under one of his eyes and when he laughed, dimples appeared. “Woah, did he at least give me credit for that? That tiny thing is running around, spreading my wisdom.”

“He said, though, that a friend told him that,” precised Yongguk, very amused by the situation.

“Well, that’s still very vague,” huffed Himchan in indignation. “After four years of college, I thought he knew better.”

  
After a few more minutes of small talk, Himchan convinced him to move to the bar stool to eat his ramen here because, according to him, he had to take a break, at one point. If Yongguk was honest with himself, it didn’t take a lot to convince him to stay here. He was genuinely pleased about it.  
Himchan was an instrumentalist, worked in his parents’ store when they needed him and wanted to teach music to kids. He loved touching people when he talked, even more when he laughed. Yongguk also found out that talking to him made the time go by so fast that at almost two in the morning, he was nursing a cup of coffee in his hand, eating biscuits that Himchan forced on him, and that the song had been left unfinished. Surprisingly enough, he didn’t really mind. So, he let the time rush, defenseless, offering a few words himself here and there, but very precise ones, letting Himchan dig without too much effort.

“You’re still wearing my scarf, I see,” he told Yongguk with tired but sincere eyes and there was no strength in him to get awfully flustered. The feeling was pleasant, even. “You should go home, Yongguk.”

Lulled by the softness in the other man’s voice and their conversation, he did as he was told. Sitting on his bathtub while brushing his teeth, he found himself wondering about the touching of the souls and warm smiles in winter nights and he ran to find his phone.

 

“So, I heard that my parents are finally meeting,” said Youngjae, a smirk on his lips and looking a bit too sober for Yongguk’s own drunken state.

They were in Yongguk’s apartment. Daehyun was in the kitchen, trying to make pasta – but he heard him tell secrets to the pots, not so long ago so he wasn’t sure if they were getting fed anytime soon.

“Your parents already met? What the fuck are you on,” replied Yongguk, utterly confused.

Youngjae burst out laughing. “Oh god, hyung, not my real parents, you idiot. I’m talking about you and Himchan.”

From the kitchen, Daehyun’s voice – way, way too loud and Youngjae shushed him immediately – was heard. “Dude, you slept with Yongguk, you can’t call him dad.”

Yongguk held up one hand to shut Youngjae up. “Please, don’t make that horrible joke. I covered for your broke ass yes, but…”

Youngjae smiled to cut him off. “I don’t need to make the joke, if you have it in mind.”

Daehyun laughed, again, way too loud and Yongguk feared that one of his neighbors would file a noise complaint against him. Even though, if they truly wanted to, they would have done it years ago already.

“Anyway, Himchan told me that you have midnight talking sessions at his parents’ store. That’s cute.”

Embarrassed, Yongguk focused his attention on the blanket that was covering his legs – he bought it a few, days ago. The apartment was nice and warm, filled with them. Daehyun and Youngjae surprised him after work with food and alcohol – Youngjae still had a spare key.

“Yeah, he keeps me company, when I work too late,” admitted Yongguk. It almost felt like a confession.

Youngjae’s quick eyes travelled up from his eyes to his hands and he smiled, eyes darting away. “Yeah, I know. It makes me happy.”

Before he could reply anything, which proved hard after too many shots of soju, they heard Daehyun complain about the water not boiling. Youngjae got up, letting the cold get in for a bit under the blanket.

“How much do you bet that he did not turn on the stove?”

 

 

 

On a sunny but ferociously cold saturday, Himchan invited him to get coffee and go for a walk. When he saw him, waiting at the entrance of the park, he paused. Himchan had dyed his hair a warm rich red. Himchan saw him and waved at him – before realizing he had cups of coffee in hands. Yongguk chuckled and joined him.  
  
“I hope you’re not too tired, you’ve had a very busy week. But it’s so beautiful, today, I thought you’d like a bit of sun.”

Accepting his cup of coffee, Yongguk had a hard time holding back the biggest grin. He told Himchan that it was okay and that he was happy being here, and so they entered the park together.

“Still wearing my scarf,” pointed out Himchan, touching the fabric.

Yongguk looked down. “Oh, I…I always forget to give it back to you. It’s very warm.”

Himchan rolled his eyes. “If I wanted it back, I’d have asked you a long time ago, Yongguk.”

“Oh,” he softly said. “Thank you.”

The park was not too crowded, which was nice but a rare occurring for a sunny day on a weekend. He heard a kid asking for snow and Yongguk unconsciously made a face.

“You really don’t like the winter time, do you?”

Such a weird question. It made him look at Himchan again who was taking a sip of his coffee, staring at him as he always did. He tried to find an answer, one that didn’t sound like a five year-old throwing a fit at the elements and the laws of nature.

“No, winter is death and loneliness,” he stated and he hated himself for not being very articulated.

Winter was death and dullness. It was emptiness, almost.

“Not everything dies in winter, Yongguk, that’s not true,” objected Himchan, before pursuing, steady voice and gaze. “Nature goes bare but it doesn’t die. It sleeps, at most, to gain its strength back.”

Yongguk listened, burying his nose in Himchan’s scarf, looking at the sidewalk with a little bit of embarrassment.

“Besides, you’ve got the kids,” spoke Himchan with a smile. He seemed hesitant.

Yongguk looked up, from the hard cold pavement to Himchan’s muted red hair. The coffee was warming his hands but it wouldn’t last long because Yongguk was almost transfixed by Himchan. The red cheeks and nose, the eyes wandering away, going from their surroundings to him, always to him, with intensity.  The sun reflected nicely on his hair and it suddenly made him think of autumn leaves. A speck of color in the nakedness of the world and the wind.  He smiled.  Himchan stared right back at him, arms crossed.

“What are you laughing at?”

“Your hair color suits you,” he softly said and that was enough to smooth the frown on Himchan’s face. For once, Himchan did not reply.

 

Youngjae was not living with him anymore and it left a hole and a whole lot of chores to do himself – unless the kids or Himchan would come and take care of his flat while he was fighting sleep in his office. But the loneliness of winter did not hit him as hard as it used to. After all, the kids were still coming around, leaving post-it notes everywhere. Himchan was here, too, inviting himself in his sleepness nights, in his home. Sometimes, he would invite Himchan in the studio when he was sometimes working alone. It wasn’t exactly allowed and his friend himself wasn’t too sure about it but Yongguk trusted him enough. Time would prove him wrong, but Himchan was a terrible liar, he found, unless he promised to keep something secret.  
  
“Has Yongguk hyung showed you the studio yet,” had asked Daehyun who was not to be trusted with information since an almost accidental leak on his part, a year ago.

They had been watching a movie at the kids’ place after sharing a meal. Yongguk had closed his mouth, keeping his eyes straight on the television.

“His studio? Isn’t it like, some dark secret place that no one can enter,” laughed Himchan, squeezing Yongguk’s hand under the blanket they shared.

He could feel Youngjae’s piercing gaze on him. The kid felt the lie but he let himself drink it in, for once. Thankfully, Daehyun, sweet, gullible Daehyun, dropped the topic, not without calling Yongguk heartless.

On a Tuesday at two in the morning, Himchan called him while he was hurrying in the streets to his car.

“Himchan, it’s late,” he answered back, slightly worried.

The voice came muffled, drowsy with sleep and Yongguk knew he had woken up not too long ago. “I know. I fell asleep while writing and then I woke up and I, I don’t know? I felt like you were still at work and I just wanted to check on you.”

 “Himchan, I’m okay. I’m going home.”

“Okay, okay, great. I couldn’t sleep.”

He didn’t know if it was exhaustion, but it made him stop in his tracks. He looked at his phone, for a moment, grinning like an idiot. “Are you laughing at me, Bang Yongguk? The wind is telling me that you are.”

“I’m not, you idiot,” he assured him. “You should really go back to sleep, Himchan. You’ve got classes tomorrow.”

“I know, but I also just…wanted to talk to you.”

Sleep always made Himchan more needy. It was sweet. He really didn’t mind. No, it was almost a privilege, when Himchan, caring and selfless, would let his protective side down for a moment – not entirely, but it would be too much to ask from him.

“Yongguk, I don’t know why I’m thinking about this question but I just needed to ask you.”

“Sure, tell me.”

There was a breath, as if Himchan was hesitating behind the phone. The question did not come right away but it came, cautious, tiptoeing in the night. “I need to know, about you and Youngjae.”

He was now next to his car and he frowned at his phone. “What do you mean about me and Youngjae? We told you...”

“Listen, yes I know how you both met, and it’s okay. I just. You love him so much and he’s always been there. And, I…I don’t know where I’m going with this, I’m tired, fuck.”

“Himchan…”

But Himchan cut him off. “No, it’s okay Yongguk. I’m just stupid and tired and it’s none of my business. Please, go home and take care I just…”

He lifted one arm to touch the scarf that was always around his neck or around him when he would find himself too alone, at home. It took them more than two solid minutes to speak. Perhaps to make sure. Perhaps because the winter wind caught him and froze him into place. It was just him and his stuttering heart in the winter cold. He thought of Himchan at the park and it came to him.

“Himchan, you remember when you said that I was not alone because I had the kids?”

Himchan breathed. “Yes, yes I remember. You do have them.”

“But do I have you, too?”

“Yes,” said Himchan with such intensity, not even letting a second of silence between them.

Yongguk smiled. “Okay, great. Because Himchan, you’ve got the kids and me, too.”

The words rang clear in the air, not dispersing even under the cutting wind. He blinked, once, twice, breathing in his own words. Suddenly, he thought of his notes on his phone. Rough voice and soft talks. Warm smiles in the wintertime.  Spring was maybe not so far away from him, now. He thought of Youngjae and Daehyun, finding each other, and their little prayers and how, now that he understood, Himchan would do the same sometimes, with his intense gaze and his smiles and his every fond word.

“Himchan, do you think you can stay awake ‘til I make it home to you?”

“Sure. Drive safely, okay?”

“I promise, Himchan.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact, maybe not a very interesting one, but it all just came to me while I was listening to Laura Marling's What He Wrote and then DAY6's I Need Somebody. I'm not talking about lyrics, because I don't get inspired by them. No, it was just...the right songs for writing this.
> 
> Again, thank you for reading this, leaving kudos and comments. This means a lot !
> 
> Twitter: [ @cinnamomroIl](https://twitter.com/CinnamomroIl) .  
> Curiouscat: [here!](https://curiouscat.me/cinnamomroll).
> 
>  
> 
> ♥


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